The 5-O. And Not in a Good Way.

Oh, the day of Happy Feet, ended up being not so happy, although not catastrophic.

As we are returning home from the movie on my trusty little beat up red scooter, the police pull us over! A scooter! Apparently my registration sticker was out of date, June 2006. Now how they saw that on my bitty license plate is a mystery to me. And damn it, go chase down some serial killers or something. So they pull us over, and inform us and THEN find in their computers that the DMV says it expired in June 2005.

You know, I used to be a good, law-biding, police fearing citizen. And then I met my socialist husband. That's all she wrote. I renounced my democratic ways for the Green Party. Actually, I pretty much decided to do that the year Bush decided to invade Afghanistan and pretty much every single one of the the Democrats voted "YES" in support. I was so offended and pissed off. But it's still all his fault (the husband). Isn't it always?

In any case, normally I would have been meek and mild and simpering. "Oh, officer, it's really out of date? Oh my, whatever shall I do?" (hand thrown dramatically over forehead). In this case however, I think I felt my blood start to boil. There had been some issue with the other bike I owned for a while, a 1988 Suzuki Katana 600 (street bike, crotch rocket, rice burner, whatever you want to call it). Wait, the issue was with my scooter but I ended up paying for registration on the Katana and putting the sticker (good until 2006) on the scooter instead of the proper bike, the Katana. I had some parking tickets against the scooter that I had contested but of course the DMV wouldn't let me register the scooter with parking tickets. So I had paid those off but... no stickers in the mail and since I have a brain made almost entirely from swiss cheese (at least of good quality!), I had forgotten. Plus, hey, I had an up to date sticker on it. So, it expired in 2005. And THEN, they never sent a reminder in 2006. So, mine and the DMV's mistake.

And of course, I didn't have recent registration paperwork on my scooter. Since we had almost been home, about three blocks away, the policemen let me walk home to my house to look for any paperwork that would support my claim. That I wasn't a terrorist going to blow up the Golden Gate bridge on my trusty little red scooter. I joke. So, I make the long and arduous trek home, leaving my husband and trusty little red scooter as collateral.

I get home and am desperately going through piles of paperwork, trying to find SOMETHING to get my husband out of hoc, but alas, I'm just finding tons of paperwork on all the damn parking tickets I've ever had. Nothing of use. And then Marty calls on one of the policeman's phone, telling me that the VIN (Vehicle Identifcation Number) on my bike does not match what is in the DMV records. I've had this scooter since 2003, registering it faithfully from that point on. I start thinking, oh my gods, my scooter was orginally stolen at some point!! I'm going to jail. Then I would have made the policemen feel really bad by busting out into sobs. But as it turns out, apparently my VIN on my bike was registered to some guy's bike in San Anselmo. So who screwed up there, eh??!! So, bike registered, means not stolen. Whew.

In the meantime, they send a cop over to get a copy of the title I have finally found, returning to my huband and scooter in hoc. Eventually, they just let him drive home, stating that it was just getting too complicated and it didn't look like we were going to blow up the Bridge afterall. They suggested we keep the bike hidden for now until we could get everything straightened out because apparently the DMV, after 6 months of a registration lapsing, can just come over to your house and tow your vehicle. I wonder if it takes the cops a year and a half to catch someone instead of six months?

It's probably a good thing that I had been sent off. Marty reported to me that two other cop cars showed up, making three cars and six police officers total. I would have flipped my lid since I was already starting to steam with one. They must have thought the scooter itself was made of plastique (in order to blow up the Bridge better). Oh, and then one of cops has the NERVE to say, "Gosh, isn't your scooter really beat up" or some such. I mean, how fucking WRONG is that!? My husband, who is a Virgo and not an Aries like myself, took all this in stride.

Heh, but one small consolation is that one cop says to Marty, "I didn't mean to upset her." This probably came from the steam coming out of my ears before I left for my house and Marty shhing me and trying to calm me down before I do something stupid.

And very strangely enough (OR WAS IT!!!), later that very same day, when we checked the mail, there was a collections notice from the DMV. After a year and a half.

What EVER!!